The December Awethology: Dark Volume

By The Awethors

The December Awethology - Dark Volume is a mixture of stories written by #Awethors. Each and every story is unique, some chilling, others a surprise all relating to
the month of December

Because one voice in your head isn't enough, here are so many more, as the Awethors chime together with another collection, this time of December themed stories and poetry to make you laugh, make you cry and make you feel alive. We are the Awethors and these are our words to you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Plaisted Publishing House
• Release date: Dec 3, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310307560

Book preview

The December Awethology

The Dark Volume

An Anthology of December Themed Dark Stories from the #Awethors

Copyright 2015 The #Awethors Group

http://www.awethors.com/

All Rights Reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information

storage and retrieval system, without permission in

writing from all the authors in the #Awethor

Anthology, except in the case of brief quotations

embodied in reviews.

Acknowledgements

Without the following people giving up their spare time and expertise this anthology would not have been possible:

Proofreaders: Anita Kovacevic, CK Dawn, Christie Stratos, JB Taylor, LE Fitzpatrick Rebecca McCray,

Ryan Guy, and Travis West

Formatting: Claire Plaisted

Management: Claire Plaisted, L E Fitzpatrick, and Rocky Rochford

Publising Sponsored by

Plaisted Pubishing House Ltd

New Zealand

The Awethors would also like to thank the continued support from all members in the group.

Contents

Foreword

That Couple

Jingle Jars

A Christmas for Everyone

The Christmas Assassin

A Christmas Tale

The Lamb's Gift

Piece and Quiet

Crimson Kisses on a Cold Winter's Night

Critical Mass

A Curmudgeons Christmas

A Christmas Treat: Spicy and Sweet

The Lament of Vienna

Gifts Both Light and Dark

Christmas Dreams

To All a Good Night

Christmas with no Atmosphere

The Cake and the Kumiho

The Naughty List

Seven Years Bad Luck

Afterword

Biographies

A Foreword from L E Fitzpatrick

The Awethors are a group of talented and mostly undiscovered authors who gather online to host events and publish anthologies. We are spread throughout the world and cover a multitude of genres and writing styles, but we all have one thing in common; a passion for writing and literature.

We started our project asking our members to come up with short stories, based around the theme of December. These could be Christmas stories, Hanukah stories, bah humbug stories – anything as long as it was set in the month of December. With such a diverse group all of our compilations appeal to a wide range of readers, but sometimes things get dark – really dark. And in a few cases worrying. These are the stories I had to pull from the December Awethology. Stories that are too dark for those warm Christmas nights. Stories that will give you winter worries and icy chills.

These stories are deliciously sinister, twisted, sometimes funny and in most cases quite disturbing. Above all else, as you would expect, they are awesome!

So if you’re looking for a really terrifying nightmare before Christmas, on behalf of all of all of the Awethors,

Happy Reading

L E Fitzpatrick

Author of paranormal thriller The Running Game

and compiler of the December Awethologies

That Couple

Jack Croxall

That Couple

That couple in the hospital, the boy’s arm wrapped around the girl’s shoulder. He’s speaking Korean, I think. I can’t understand what he’s saying, but I know what he’s telling her: It will be okay, I'm here, I love you.

I'm here too though, sitting beside the waiting room window. I came in with the draft, the other patients shivered when I entered.

But that couple.

They’re sitting across the room. The girl is crying now, nodding at everything the boy whispers to her. She’s trying, but it’s bad. It’s sad to see, even after all this time.

Christmas isn't far, she might just make it. The boy might even remember it. He might spare a moment in Christmases to come when he’s with his new family, an instant to think of the girl. His eyes might even sting as he pictures her face. I hope he does remember her.

I’ll take her soon.

Jingle Jars

Jennifer Deese

This storm had to be the worst Christmas weather of the century. Sid was coming to terms with the idea that he may freeze to death in the whiteout when suddenly he stumbled into the wall of a structure. Keeping one hand on the wall he followed it to a door. Pulling against the drifted snow to open it he felt his limbs freezing; it took all he had to get it open enough to squeeze inside. Shutting the door against the elements, Sid found himself surrounded by an inky darkness.

Sliding to the floor he strained to see something...anything but his eyelids were heavy and his mind befuddled. He had been lost in the storm for hours. His last thought before falling into an exhausted slumber was that it was odd to hear bells jingling in the space around him. As he pondered this his head slumped and he slept.

Hours later, Sid woke with a gasp. For a moment he thought he was dead and this black void was Hell. Fumbling in his backpack his frozen hands found the flashlight. The beam of light cut through the darkness enough that Sid could see a fireplace across the room; a small pile of wood nearby. He forced his numb hands to search his pack for the matches he knew were there. Matches in hand, he crawled to the fireplace and with the wood, and some paper he found he managed to start a fire. Blowing the flame higher he heard, again, bells jingling. Sid thought his head was playing tricks on him...hypothermia maybe?

He was stranded alone in an abandoned cabin. Why would there be jingle bells?

As the fire began to throw off a minute amount of heat, Sid cast the flashlight beam around the room. The cabin had been abandoned for quite some time, that was obvious. His eye caught a glimmer from the other side of the room. Struggling to stand, he walked over to the glimmer. As he got closer he could make out a wall of jars. They were dusty and covered in old cobwebs but it was indeed a wall of jars. Through the grime he could make out lettering on them and he could see that some contained powders or sand. They were all filled; some full, some partially filled while others were empty. The dust made it hard in this light for him to discern any words on the old labels. Sid could feel the cold begin to seize up his limbs again and returned to the fire.

As he huddled before the weak warmth he pulled some photos from his bag. Each photo a reminder of Christmas Eves past. His breath quickened as the familiar sense of excitement settled over him.

Running an icy finger across the images he closed his eyes and reminisced. Sid could recall each and every one of those Christmas Eves, his special celebrations to pay homage to the Yuletide season. The most recent was from earlier in the day. He had really enjoyed those festivities. It had been one of his best Christmas activities to date. Oh what joy they had brought him; his own kind of joy. Flicking through the pictures, he relived each one and again he heard the mystery jingling sound.

The noise filled the room with a crescendo of sound that put him on edge. He turned his head from one side to the other searching for the source. He dropped the photos on the floor next to him as he realized, with a bit of a start, that the